


When it Sticks

by VictoriaSkyeMarsters



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dildos, Dirty Talk, Doctor Rick Grimes, Doctor/Patient, Dubious Consent, Inappropriate Behavior, M/M, Medical Kink, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21609328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriaSkyeMarsters/pseuds/VictoriaSkyeMarsters
Summary: When an evening alone goes horribly wrong, Daryl is forced to see a doctor.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes
Comments: 27
Kudos: 224





	When it Sticks

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm new to the fandom and have been inhaling all the fics I can at a worrying pace. But there are a few classic tropes I haven't stumbled across. Like doctor kink. And I needed Dr. Grimes seeing about Daryl immediately, so consider this my contribution to the fandom. It's pretty much just ridiculous filth, but it's still them so...romantic filth?? 
> 
> (Tagging this as dubious consent because Rick is definitely not acting the way a doctor should act, and even though Daryl is into it, it's not an okay real-life situation, and if your doctor ever tries this shit with you, you should slap them silly. Unless maybe Andrew Lincoln is your doctor, in which case, high five.)

There were a lot of reasons why Daryl Dixon didn’t go to the doctor. 

He had shit insurance, for one. Always had. When he was little, his daddy hadn’t been better off. He’d grown up knowing that, were he to catch a fever or a persistent cold, he was well on his own, because no one was gonna haul his ass in the car and take him to a doctor. Sometimes, on the rare occasion when childhood sickness and Merle being out of juvie coincided—a miraculous event—Daryl’s brother would pay him a bit of mind. One time, he felt Daryl’s feverish forehead, stormed out of the house, and came back half an hour later with a stolen bag of Campbell’s soup. He’d even heated it up for him.

But usually, Daryl was on his own. 

There were a lot of things you could figure out on your own, anyway, without dishing out the big bucks to see a physician. And Daryl was smart, in those ways. Smart enough to sew up his own stitches when he got a cut that needed it. Smart enough to wait out his seasonal colds until they passed naturally. Smart enough to stay the hell away from the prostitutes Merle sporadically tossed his way, and the inevitable venereal disease some of them carried. 

So, you see, Daryl didn’t need to see a doctor. He could take care of himself just fine. 

But there were some things…some things he couldn’t handle himself. And on a rainy Sunday night, he encountered one of those things he couldn’t handle, which, coincidentally, came from handling himself a little too much. 

“Oh, shit,” he rasped, fingers scrabbling over his sheets. “Oh, fuck.” 

He sat on his bed, on hands and knees, his head hanging between his shoulders and sweat beading his forehead. His stomach was tight with panic. His heart was racing. He reached a hand to his backside for the thirtieth time in as many seconds, fingers probing, hoping to feel what he knew wasn’t there anymore, what he knew had…slid...too far in. 

“Son of a bitch,” he rasped when his fingers felt nothing but the slight gaping of his rim, where moments ago, his dildo had been sucked inside, its base beyond the reach of his fingers. 

He’d been on the edge of his orgasm when it had happened, his last birthday’s gag gift from Merle caught in the tight spasm of his channel. Before he could stop it, the toy had disappeared inside him. 

Anxious tears made his eyes burn as he pushed a finger carefully inside, seeking, seeking. He could feel the slick, blunt end of the toy, but he couldn’t get a grip on it, not even when he tried with two fingers. After thirty seconds turned into thirty minutes, turned into an hour, Daryl had to admit that he had a choice to make. He could let the dildo stay where it was, blocking him up until he died a mortifying death. Or he could suck it up and do something about it. Something he really really really did not want to do. 

Go to the doctor. 

For a bit, while gathering himself from his bed and propping a leg onto his bathroom sink to try and see around to his backside, Daryl denied it was necessary. But the new position caused the dildo to press roughly against his prostate, and he howled, doubling over and clocking himself on the edge of the counter.  
He hissed in pain, blood tricking down his forehead, even as his body shook from the too-bright sensation inside his ass. He met his eyes in the mirror and knew there was only one thing for it. He sucked in a dramatic breath, straightened his shoulders, and wiped at the blood gathering at his brow.  
“Guess I’m going to the fuckin’ doctor,” he said, before struggling into pants and shoes and preparing himself for a bumpy ride on his motorcycle. 

He didn’t go to the hospital, because there was a twenty-four hour care clinic just down the road from his place that took walk-ins, and he preferred a small waiting room to the bright fluorescence and endless hours of a hospital emergency room. Plus, he had it on good authority from some guys at work that the clinic wasn’t too pricy, even without decent insurance. So that’s where he ended up, in a mostly empty parking lot at ten in the evening, with a dildo lodged up his ass. 

The rain was coming heavier now, and when he pushed through the door of the clinic, he was halfway to soaking. A sweet-faced receptionist sat at the front desk, but other than her, the place was dead. Seemed he was the only idiot in town who’d fucked up fucking himself tonight. 

She smiled and summoned him forward, pushing a little clipboard over the counter at him. When he got close enough, he could read her nametag: Carol. 

Carol’s eyes danced over his forehead, no doubt thinking the still-bleeding cut was his purpose for being there. That was convenient enough for Daryl, so he let her believe it and filled out the form quickly and quietly. 

“Thank you,” Carol said when he returned the clipboard to her waiting hands. “The doctor will be with you in a moment.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, turning back into the waiting room. 

“Take a seat,” she instructed kindly. 

He snorted. He’d sat enough on the short ride here, and if anything, he was sure the dildo had inched even further into his ass. “I’m good,” he said, and continued to pace the waiting room for the five minutes it took for Carol to call out to him again. 

“He’s ready for you, Mr. Dixon. You can go on back.”

With his head down and his eyes watching the floor in embarrassment, he went through the door that led into the back offices. There was a long hallway with too many options of corners to turn down, and he was a little put off that Carol wasn’t leading him to where he was meant to be, because now he was probably going to make a fool of himself by getting lost. 

But then he spotted a man rounding a corner on the right, and Daryl clenched at the sight of him, because holy fuck. The doctor—and he had to be the doctor, because he was wearing a white coat and was oozing authority—was near the most beautiful damn thing Daryl had ever seen. Offensively blue eyes, dark curls, thick scruff on a sharp jaw. The toy trapped in his ass jolted when Daryl locked eyes with the man, his body tightening up, and his prostate was rudely pressed upon. A wave of humiliating pleasure wracked his body, head to toe, and he collapsed against the nearest wall, his shoulder sliding against a poster for Safe Sex. 

“Woah,” the doctor said, hurrying to Daryl’s side and gently taking his elbow. 

His touch was hot, and Daryl jerked against it, his eyes nearly rolling into his head as the pressure on his prostate increased. 

“I’m Dr. Grimes,” the man said, ignoring the way Daryl had flinched from him and helping him stand up straight so he could lead him down the hall. “Let’s get you settled in here, and then I’ll see what we can do about that cut on your head, hmm?”

He ushered Daryl into the nearest office and gestured for Daryl to hop up on the exam table. And, yeah, that wasn’t gonna happen. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Dr. Grimes. He had a way of tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes that had Daryl’s stomach swooping. As if this wasn’t already hard enough, the doctor meant to dig around in his ass had to look like that, like a goddamn perfect fucking man. 

Daryl wasn’t one for butterflies, but something was going on inside him, and not just in his ass. His chest felt tight as he teetered nervously toward the table, unable to meet the doctor full in the face. He was just that gorgeous, and Daryl was just that embarrassed. 

“Daryl,” said Dr. Grimes, his gaze darting down to the chart in his hand before setting it on the counter beside a canister of tongue depressors. “Sit down for me, please, so I can see about your head.” His voice was warm, his accent thick, his words demanding in a way that had Daryl moving to the exam table, even though sitting was the last thing he wanted to do. 

He hesitated at the edge, and despite the unusual desire to follow this doctor’s instructions, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

“Daryl, look at me.”

His face flushed hot, and he looked. Dr. Grimes was studying him closely, and Daryl could only imagine what he saw: some rain-damp asshole with cheeks as red as his neck, taking up his time. He brushed some of his hair out of his eyes, felt the moisture from the rain between his fingertips. 

The doctor reached for him suddenly, a cotton square in his hand he’d made appear out of nowhere. He pressed it to Daryl’s forehead with a tentative touch. “Easy, it’s alright,” he gentled, dabbing at the wound. This close, Daryl realized they were of similar heights, and the doctor smelled like day-faded Old Spice, and like he’d just brewed a fresh pot of coffee. He leaned into it, into the scent, into the touch on his forehead, until a firm hand clutched his shoulder, keeping him balanced. 

Daryl shrunk back in shame, but the doctor just clicked his tongue, a small frown forming on his lips. “This is just a scratch,” he announced. “It can be scary when you get a scrape like this on your head, since they tend to bleed a lot, but this won’t even need stitches. Just some Neosporin and an aspirin and you should be right as rain.”  
Daryl nodded, biting the inside of his mouth. 

“Now, you wanna tell me what you’re really doing here?”

Daryl knew it would come to this; it was why he was here in the first place. Not to have a little scrape cleaned up by gentle fingers, but to have those same fingers get a sex toy out of him. It just would have been so much easier a thing to admit if Dr. Grimes had been literally anyone else. 

The shame made his tongue thick. “I got a problem,” he choked out. “And it ain’t got nothin’ to do with my head.”

Dr. Grimes nodded patiently. When Daryl didn’t continue, a small smile crept across his perfect fucking mouth, and he asked, “And it has something to do with you not wanting to sit on my table?”

Panic seized him. Daryl couldn’t do it. He decided then and there that he’d rather die than have this man know what he was about. “I gotta go,” he rumbled, sliding past the doctor.

But he was caught by the shoulders before he could reach the door, which had remained open until this very moment, when Dr. Grimes shut it with a definitive click and looked at Daryl like he was some misbehaving kid. “You can go when I’ve given the okay for you to go,” he said. “But you’re gonna tell me what’s brought you in here first, so I can take care of you.”

The way he said it: take care of you. Daryl’s body tightened up again, and the moan left his mouth before he could even think to conceal it.  
Dr. Grimes’ eyebrows raised, and Daryl wanted to die. 

“Did you get yourself into a…situation?” he asked slowly, taking a step in Daryl’s direction, making him back up towards the exam table. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. I promise you, I’ve seen it all.”

“I…” Daryl chewed at his lip. He could feel how red his face was. 

“Daryl, you gotta tell me,” Dr. Grimes continued. “You can whisper it if you need to, but I gotta hear it. Else we’ll be here all night.”

Daryl was breathing hard, wanted nothing more than to bolt out of the room, but the doctor looked like someone who could catch him. And keep him caught. Not many men had that look about them. But Dr. Grimes did. 

Sensing his eagerness to leave, the doctor stepped closer, cupping a hand to his ear and leaning in. “Whisper it in my ear,” he said. “Tell me what’s wrong. It’s just the two of us in here.”

Daryl huffed out a frustrated breath. Dr. Grimes moved even closer, standing less than a foot away and leaning over the rest of the distance, so his ear was close to Daryl’s mouth. It had been so long since someone had been this close to him, it made Daryl shiver. In excitement. In fear. In anxiousness. 

“Come on, Daryl,” Dr. Grimes said, commanding it and tapping a finger to his ear, which was close enough for Daryl to stick out his tongue and taste, if he dared. Which, of course, he didn’t. 

With a soft sigh, Daryl finally obeyed. “I got somethin’ stuck,” he whispered. 

“What did you get stuck?” asked the doctor softly. 

“A toy,” Daryl muttered. 

“Where’s the toy stuck, Daryl?” 

Daryl swallowed hard. He was sweating. Felt sick. This was a low point he’d never forget, that was for damn sure. “You know,” he whispered raggedly. 

Dr. Grimes pulled away so he could look at him properly. “Have you got something in your rectum, Daryl? You need me to see if I can get it out?”

Sagging with relief that the truth was finally out, Daryl nodded. “I’m not,” he began, but stopped, reorganizing his thoughts. “I ain’t some pervert. I was just…”

“You were just enjoying yourself, and there’s nothing wrong with that,” Dr. Grimes finished for him. “Although, next time, might I suggest a toy with a thicker base, so this doesn’t happen again.”

Daryl stammered out some nonsense while Dr. Grimes turned him around. 

“I need you to remove your pants and underwear and get on the table. Hands and knees.”

Daryl obeyed silently, quickly shucking his pants. He’d not bothered with underwear before rushing out of his house, so that left climbing up on the exam table, which he did as gracefully as he could, although no amount of grace could save him from the humiliation of presenting himself on his hands and knees to Dr. Grimes. Christ, if Merle could see him now.

“Good, Daryl,” came the doctor’s voice from behind him, close enough to feel the heat of his breath on the back of Daryl’s thigh. 

He heard the slap of gloves pulling over long fingers and fought a shiver. His hole tightened automatically, like it knew someone was looking at it. 

“That won’t do,” said Dr. Grimes, his hands ghosting over Daryl’s ass cheeks. “I know this is uncomfortable, but you need to relax for me. Take a deep breath.”

Daryl breathed, trying to relax enough for his hole to unclench. His deep breath hitched, however, when he felt Dr. Grimes’ hands firmly connect to his skin, massaging the meaty muscle of his backside. “Hnng,” Daryl groaned, too surprised by the well of warmth to cover his enjoyment of it. 

“There you go,” Dr. Grimes said with approval. “Take it easy. Open up for me. Good, good.”

Daryl let his head lower and his back arch, until he was in the same position he’d been in on his bed, when this whole thing had started. It had been so long since someone had touched him, his body didn’t really care that it was a doctor’s clinical touch. 

“How long ago did this happen?” Dr. Grimes asked, continuing the light massage of Daryl’s ass. 

It took him a few moments to process the words through his building haze of pleasure, but then Daryl was able to grind out, “About an hour.”

“It’s good you came here so quickly,” Dr. Grimes said. “You’re still nice and loose. Your rim looks stretched enough to make this easier for both of us. I’m going to walk you through what’s going to happen, okay?”

Daryl nodded. Between his legs, he could see his cock thickening up. Since there was nothing he could do about it, and the doctor hadn’t mentioned it, he kept his mouth shut and prayed this would be over soon. 

“I’m gonna insert my fingers, make sure you’re as loose as you look, and then I’m gonna need to insert my forceps, so I can take a good look inside. Then we’ll go from there. Alright?”

“Yeah,” Daryl muttered. “Do what you gotta do, Doc.”

“Tell you what. Why don’t you call me Rick, seeing as we’re getting to know each other a little better?”

“Alright, Rick,” Daryl tested, rolling the name around on his tongue. He liked how it tasted, how it sounded, but he wasn’t sure how clinical it made all this seem. The fingers circling his rim certainly didn’t feel clinical. Neither did the other hand that grasped Daryl’s hip to keep him steady. 

“There you go getting tight again,” Dr. Grimes scolded. Rick. 

“Can’t help it,” Daryl complained gruffly. Rick’s finger was rubbing at him persistently, his touch all slick, where he’d obviously just doused his fingers in lubricant. 

“Keep breathing,” Rick insisted, his touch growing in pressure. “Let me in.”

Daryl concentrated and tried. He really did. But Rick’s touch was so nerve-wracking, he couldn’t do it. “Sorry,” he whispered. 

“It’s okay. I’m just gonna have to force my way in a little at first.” Rick pressed harder. “Come on, Daryl. Be good for me.”

Daryl moaned when the tip of Rick’s finger suddenly popped inside. He bit his lip to keep from doing it again. A quick glance between his legs revealed the dribble leaking from his cockhead. In a moment, it would begin to puddle on the table beneath him. Fuck, if this hadn’t already been the most humiliating night of his entire life. 

“There we go,” Rick whispered, wiggling his finger as he pushed it further inside. 

“Fuck,” Daryl rasped. He felt himself pulse around the intruding finger. Even through the latex of the gloves, Rick’s finger was hot. Daryl’s cock throbbed. “Don’t mean nothin’,” he said by way of apology, for surely Rick had realized by now that Daryl was rock hard, and what must he be thinking of him? The way he was getting so turned on by an emotionless, clinical touch? 

“Don’t think about it,” Rick replied, still probing with a single finger. “Your body’s wired from the overstimulation of having this toy inside for so long. It’s a normal reaction. Good news is, you’re still nice and loose inside. When you’re not clenching around my finger, that is.” Rick’s laugh was deep and breathy, and it made Daryl tighten around his finger with a gasp. Rick’s free hand came down on his ass with a sharp slap. “Keep that hole relaxed for me,” he ordered. 

Daryl’s head snapped up at his words. He peeked over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the doctor probing his backside, but Rick was still the picture of professionalism. Still, those words to have come out of his mouth. It had sounded so…filthy. 

“I’m adding a second finger,” Rick declared, abruptly sliding another digit in beside the first. “Now, how big is this toy we’re looking for?” he asked conversationally as he began scissoring his fingers. 

When Daryl spoke, he winced at the broken sound of his voice. “Seven inches,” he rasped. 

Rick hummed thoughtfully. “Vibrator?” he asked. 

“Nah. D-d-d-dildo.” The words came out as a stutter, because Rick chose that moment to slide his fingers out of his ass. And then, slowly, he slid them back in. 

“Thick?” Rick asked. He continued the careful in-and-out of his fingers. 

Daryl panted. Fuck. It was almost like---no, it was like. Like Rick was fucking him with his fingers. “Jesus,” he moaned, his voice gravel and his mouth drooling as much as his cock. 

“You play with yourself a lot?” Rick asked. His fingers edged out of his rim, tugging there, stretching him wide. 

“Nah,” Daryl grunted, trying to keep his hips from pushing against Rick’s fingers. 

“Special occasion?” 

“Not really,” Daryl answered. “Jus’ felt like it.”

“You needed something up here?” Rick asked, abandoning Daryl’s rim to push again into his hole. “Did you like it? Before it got stuck?”

Daryl remained silent, concentrating hard so he wouldn’t come on Rick’s fingers. 

“I don’t want you to worry.” Rick’s words were smooth where Daryl’s were rough. “Your hole feels ready for me to take a peek inside. You gonna let me take care of you, Daryl?”

“Yeah,” he replied around the lump in his throat. 

Rick’s fingers slipped out of him and he lightly squeezed Daryl’s ass cheek before stepping away. Daryl immediately missed him being close. His body heat and his touch. But he still had his deep, reassuring voice speaking to him as he looked through the medical cabinet on the wall. 

“These forceps,” Rick said, “will let me take a look inside without my big fingers in the way. If I’m right, your dildo isn’t too far from my grasp. I think I should be able to get in and out with little worry.” 

Daryl hardly had the strength to lift his head and look, but he had to see Rick. Had to look in his eyes before he disappeared back behind him. 

Rick seemed to be waiting for the eye contact, because once he had it, he held it fiercely. The forceps were shining in his grip. “Are you ready?” he asked. 

And Daryl wasn’t. He hadn’t been ready for anything this night had to offer him so far, but he nodded anyway. What choice did he have? “Do what you gotta do,” he said, lowering his head again, so the sight of Rick approaching his waiting hole didn’t make him explode. 

“You can rest your weight on your elbows,” Rick suggested. “Might be more comfortable for you.”

To Daryl’s surprise, Rick’s hands pressed on his shoulders a moment later, guiding him down to his elbows. Daryl grunted as the position caused his backside to lift higher in the air. He looked like some bitch in heat, and hid his burning face behind his hair. 

“The forceps will be cold,” Rick warned, only seconds before Daryl felt the cool metal on his rim. The touch made him spasm helplessly, and if not for Rick’s firm grip on his hip, he might have fallen off the table and had worse problems than a dildo up his ass. 

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Feels weird.”

“It’ll warm up quick,” Rick promised. The hand at his hip slid around the side to join the other at his hole. The warm fingers probed there, helping the forceps glide inside. “Gonna hold you open. Try to stay relaxed.”

“Mhmm,” Daryl nodded helplessly. He couldn’t help the whimper he made when the forceps opened him up. It wasn’t much wider than the dildo had stretched him, but it was infinitely more uncomfortable, especially knowing Rick was back there, looking deep inside him. He trembled, sweat dripping down his temples. 

“There it is,” Rick said. “Like I thought, it’s in reach. Shouldn’t be too difficult for me to grab it. I’m gonna insert a second set of forceps inside you, Daryl, and use them to get a hold of your little toy.”

Daryl laughed weakly. “Wouldn’t call it ‘little’, I don’t think.”

“Depends on what you’re comparing it to,” Rick replied. 

Daryl’s mouth went dry, but his cock was still dribbling pre-come. He’d never been more turned on his life than when Rick pressed that second medical instrument, icy cold, into his asshole. “Fuck, fuck,” he cursed, glad he’d gotten on his elbows earlier, because he would have crashed to them now, at the sensation of being dug into so deep. 

“Stay still,” Rick said. “Almost there.”

Something nudged against the dildo and Daryl cried out. 

“Hush, now. I’ve got a hold of it. I’m gonna start easing it out, okay?”

Daryl nodded, suddenly desperate to have this over and done with. 

“You’re doing so good,” Rick praised as he began to slowly tug on the dildo with the forceps. “Still nice and slick inside. So good.”

“Rick,” Daryl groaned. He was humiliated, and he was turned on beyond reason, and he could feel every inch of the dildo as it slowly pulled out of his hole.

“I’ve got the end of it out,” Rick announced. 

“Thank fuck.”

“Hmm,” came the doctor’s reply, instantly raising Daryl’s hackles. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Rick answered with an easy chuckle. “The tip of this dildo is just a little bigger than the base, isn’t it? I need to take my time taking it out so I don’t hurt you.”

“Alright,” Daryl said, remembering the fat head of the dildo, how it’d taken him a long time to work it inside. 

“I need you to just relax,” Rick instructed. “I’m removing both forceps. I’ve got a good grip with my fingers on the base, and I’m applying more lube. We’re gonna get you nice and slick. Get this thing out of your little hole.”

Daryl’s answering groan was loud. But those words coming out of Rick’s mouth…they weren’t the things doctors said to patients. He was pretty fucking sure, anyway. 

“For all the stretching we did, you sure get tight easily,” Rick continued, his fingers making the dildo twist inside him. It brushed against his prostate, and Daryl felt his balls tighten. 

“Doc,” he panted. “Rick.” He wanted to warn him, plead for him to stop, or maybe to keep going, but he couldn’t form a complete thought, let alone a sentence, so he just rode the feeling of Rick sliding the dildo around in his ass and squeezed his eyes shut, praying not to shoot off all over this doctor’s office. 

“How’s this feel?” Rick asked, pushing the dildo further in before he pulled it almost all the way out, Daryl’s rim clenching around the head. “Any pain?”

“Nah,” Daryl gasped as the dildo fucked back into him. “Feels…feels alright.”

“Good. I think you’re ready to slip this out all the way. Yeah?”

“Yeah, yes. Do it.”

“Okay. Okay, Daryl. Here it comes.” 

He pulled the head out with a squelch that made Daryl want to curl up into a ball. The relief he felt at having the thing out of him was so intense, a sob shook his shoulders. There was a pause, which Daryl was sure meant Rick was examining the dildo that had been lodged in his ass, but he couldn’t bring himself to move yet. He remained with his ass propped in the air, bringing his face down to rest against his forearm. His eyes were wet from shame and stress. But at least it was over now. 

“We’re almost done,” Rick said, his hands coming back down to smooth over Daryl’s side. The touch was softer now; he’d removed his gloves. “I need to check you for any tears. Make sure there was no damage.”

“Okay,” Daryl agreed. 

“I’m going to re-insert my fingers. Tell me if there are any spots that feel painful, okay, Daryl?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me get my fingers in you,” Rick said with a slight sigh, pressing two fingers in at once. The stretch was only slight; Daryl was already so open from everything else. The fingers felt like a warm balm smoothing against his inner walls, a welcome touch after the cold metal of the forceps and the lifeless rubber of the dildo. “You feel good. No tears. Does anything hurt?”

“Feels good,” Daryl answered, too mentally exhausted to fight the way his hips rocked back on Rick’s fingers. 

“Yeah? You like it?” Rick asked. His fingers found Daryl’s prostate and he pressed around the bundle of nerves with doctorly precision. “Your prostate feels healthy.”

Daryl moaned pathetically, and he could have sworn he heard the smallest rumble of pleasure coming from Rick. 

“Does it feel good?” Rick asked. “Like it normally does when you touch it?”

“Better,” Daryl admitted, his voice muffled shyly into his arm. “Feels better.”

“My fingers can only check so deep,” Rick said, after a few moments more of probing. “The dildo was much farther inside. I’m going to need to check with something besides my fingers.”

“Not the forceps,” Daryl hastened to say. He couldn’t deal with that again. Not now that he had such delicious heat inside him. 

“I’m not gonna use the forceps,” Rick promised. “I’m gonna put something else up there, deep as it can go, and you’re gonna tell me how it feels. Can you do that for me? Be my good patient?”

“Yeah.” He wanted to say he’d do anything for Dr. Rick Grimes, but seeing as how that would make him the most pathetic asshole there ever was, Daryl kept his mouth shut and just nodded enthusiastically. 

“This should feel a lot better than the dildo,” Rick said. 

That’s when Daryl heard the sound of a zipper. He froze, his panting, desperate breaths filling the room. There was plenty of time to protest. He could have jumped off the table and punched Rick right in the perfect face. Could have ran out of there. Could have gotten him arrested for harassment or something, if he’d wanted. 

Instead, he lay there, offering his ass, wanting frantically for Rick to take it. “I’ll tell ya if it hurts any,” he said, his gentle coax, his less than subtle plea, his silent answer to Rick’s silent question. Can I? Yes, Rick, you can. You can have it all. 

Once given, Rick didn’t fool around with the taking. Daryl felt the bulbous, burning hot head of him pressing against his tender rim almost immediately. “Alright, Daryl,” he said, only sounding slightly undone. “Let’s see how this feels.”

He pushed inside, and he wasn’t slow about it. He bottomed out with a growl, his fingers digging roughly into Daryl’s sides. Without even seeing him, Daryl knew he was bigger than the dildo. Longer. Thicker. Hotter. Rick flexed his hips, and Daryl cried out. 

“Any pain?” Rick asked. 

“Nah,” answered Daryl, his whole body trembling. “Better keep checking though.”

Rick laughed, pulling back only to plunge back in, a rough, strong fuck forward that had Daryl holding onto the edge of the exam table so he wouldn’t slide forward. “You’re tight,” Rick grunted, finally beginning to sound as wrecked as Daryl felt. It made his heart swell, made his confidence swell, too, knowing he wasn’t the only one affected by this. “You’ve got the prettiest asshole I’ve ever seen, Daryl.” He picked up a steady rhythm, thrusting hard and picking up speed. 

“Ungh,” Daryl moaned, pitched high, almost squealing, and was rewarded with Rick leaning down to press wet kisses on his lower back, pushing his shirt up to get at his bare skin. 

“You like my cock in your tight little hole? You like how good it feels?” Rick asked, and fuck if Daryl wasn’t putty in this man’s hands already. His voice coming rough and filthy over his skin had his neglected cock raging with the need for release. 

“Rick,” he begged. 

“Come here,” Rick growled, slipping out of Daryl, grabbing his hips, and pulling him down from the exam table, landing him on his feet so he could bend Daryl over the table and plunge back in. Only now, the angle was even deeper, and Rick could drape his body over Daryl’s and get at his neck. He sucked bruising kisses there, pounding hard into his ass. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Rick whispered, his fingers still threading through Daryl’s hair, turning his head until he could meet his eyes. “Wanted to do this as soon as I saw you.”

“Would’ve let you,” Daryl grunted in reply. “And I don’t even like doctors.”

Rick laughed and wrapped his hand around Daryl’s cock. “You like me, though, don’t you, baby?”

The endearment, combined with the firm grip of Rick’s fist and the relentless pounding against his prostate, had Daryl sobbing in pleasure. 

“Tell me,” Rick insisted, squeezing and tugging roughly at Daryl’s dick. 

“Yeah, I like you, man,” he cried desperately. “Oh, fuck me.”

Rick laughed again, and the hand that wasn’t jacking Daryl’s cock turned Daryl’s head enough so he could kiss his mouth. It was surprisingly sweet a gesture, considering. “I’ll let you come if you agree to go out with me tomorrow night.”

“What?” Daryl asked, honestly too out of his mind to compute much more than the hand sliding up and down his cock and the thick length splitting his backside. But the gist of it sounded good enough. “Hell, Rick,” he groaned. “You let me come, and I’ll go anywhere with you.”

“Good answer,” came the smug reply against his cheek. “Kiss me again.”

Daryl craned his neck, kissing Rick the best way he knew how, as good as he could manage with the awkward angle, and Rick’s hand moved faster, wringing pleasure like it was his goddamn job. He slammed deep and broke their kiss to bite Daryl’s neck. 

“Aww, fuck,” Daryl cried, his dick pulsing, ropes of come shooting all over Rick’s fist. 

“There we go,” Rick whispered, milking him with his hand. “Good job, Daryl. Good job, baby. You like Italian?”

“What the fuck?” Daryl asked, shivering from his orgasm, shaking in Rick’s arms as the doctor continued to fuck him hard. 

“For our date,” Rick explained between strained huffs. 

Daryl felt himself smiling for the first time in a long time. He brought a hand around to Rick’s hips, encouraging him to rut harder. “You come in me, and I’ll eat whatever you want,” he said. 

Rick’s hand flew to cover his, squeezing it tight. “Good answer.”


End file.
